Faraway Eyes
by mintbanana
Summary: It's been six months since Garrus lost Shepard, and of all the things she could have done, why had she given the entire galaxy her eyes? Post-synthesis.


It's the eyes that always get him. Of all the things she could have done, why had she given the entire galaxy her _eyes_?

Miranda didn't suit green eyes. He was aware that she was still considered extremely attractive for a human, but the green looked wrong on her. It was too bright, and drained the colour from her face. He knew that he was focusing on that to distract himself from what she was telling him, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry, Garrus, but the Lazarus Project only worked because we had her body to base the reconstruction on. Even if I could get the resources together, a good enough team, there's nothing to work with. There's... nothing left."

There was silence. This wasn't what he wanted to hear, and, from what little expression Miranda was letting slip, it wasn't what she wanted to tell him. Damn it.

The office darkened as the massive silhouette of what had once been a Destroyer moved sedately past the window, and he was even more acutely aware of those green eyes glowing at him from across the room. It was hard enough for him seeing his own eyes in the mirror, never mind on every other blasted face that he passed in the street.

He left Miranda's office without attempting to cover up his disappointment. The dog tags he was wearing clinked gently underneath his armour; they weren't his.

Thanks to the major Reaper presence in the Sol system, the damaged Mass Relay had been repaired and the Citadel moved back to the Widow system within a month. The Keepers had already been underway with the repairs by the time the station was back in place, and it turned out that the more extensive structural damage had occurred on the Presidium. The wards needed extensive clean-up, but within months, the place was almost back to a tentative attempt at normal.

The Dark Star Lounge had seen better days. Since Purgatory had become the unofficial wartime party spot, this bar had fallen by the wayside a little and after the Crucible situation, it had been rebuilt with apparently little enthusiasm. Still, it was quieter, and you were less likely to accidentally grab levo snacks when you were looking for dextro.

Honestly though, he was just here to get drunk in peace.

The bartender had left him the full bottle of brandy. One look at Garrus' expression had been enough to simply slide it and a glass along the bar and quietly set up a tab. He'd downed half of it so far and everything had grown pleasantly numb.

But he was still surrounded by those _eyes._

_Damn it Shepard. _

This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. She wasn't meant to go charging off into the unknown and not come back. She always came back. _She always came back._

Hell, she had died on him once before and she'd come back from that.

But not this time.

He cracked the glass against the edge of the bar by accident trying to put it down. _Damn it._

A slender two-fingered hand skimmed over the top of the glass and plucked it from his clumsy grip. He groaned inwardly as Tali slid onto the stool next to him.

"Garrus, again?"

"Just... not now Tali. I don't want to talk about it." He could see her eyes glowing through her mask. Green, of course.

"It's been six months Garrus, and this is the third time this week."

"That's not-"

"This is the third _day_ of this week."

He stopped trying to argue. It wasn't going to work. Tali let the silence hang for a second or two before motioning to the bartender for another glass. He supposed she was probably in need of a drink; the quarians and geth were in talks with the council about Rannoch rejoining galactic society and possibly reopening their Citadel embassy. Naturally, Tali had been chosen as spokesperson, much to her dismay. It couldn't be an easy job; people were still touchy about the geth, but with everyone now being part synthetic, and the geth being almost distressingly patient about the whole thing, the arguments being tossed around were falling a little flat.

He'd heard that Wrex hadn't been having quite as smooth a time of it as Tali had, but that was probably because he still insisted on making jokes about eating salarians from time to time.

"I went to talk to Miranda," he said flatly. She hummed softly behind her mask and said nothing. She didn't need to really; he'd known what the outcome of that conversation was going to be before he'd had it, and Tali was much quicker than he was. Still, he owed her an effort to make conversation; he hadn't exactly been communicative recently.

Tali fidgeted with her glass for a little while, and shuffled on her seat. Something stirred in his memory. Tali never fidgeted, unless...

"Something you wanna say?"

"EDI... wants to talk to you. She thinks there might be some way to-"

"Is this about her?"

"Garrus, don't get too excited. There's nothing-"

"_Is this about Shepard?" _ Tali paused for a long minute, sighed and said:

"Yes."


End file.
